


red hots, a question, and a confession

by tuesdaysinoctober



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Basketball, Best Friends, F/M, High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-23 21:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30061812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdaysinoctober/pseuds/tuesdaysinoctober
Summary: they're best friendsbest friends that tell each other everything. . .right?
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	red hots, a question, and a confession

**Author's Note:**

> rated teen for language  
> this is probably too rushed lol but wtv

Clothes fade over time, Katara has learned, unless you’re so fucking determined to make sure that they don’t fade, you go crazy trying different laundy detergents, different fabric softeners, just to make sure that doesn’t happen. 

She’s never done that, but her brother has. With his girlfriend’s college sweatshirt, to be more exact. 

Katara scoffed when she found out what Sokka was doing and when she called Zuko to tell him what Sokka was doing, he scoffed too. 

“It’s fucking stupid, right?” she says. 

“I don’t understand the point,” Zuko replies.

"I've never been that in love with someone. I probably never will. He's going _insane_ over Suki, it's so annoying sometimes." 

"Yeah," he says, but there's a shift in his voice that she can't quite place.

She hears clanging in the background and then muffled voices. 

“Who’s that?” A bubbly voice. Ty Lee, probably. 

“Katara, obviously.” Snark. Azula. 

“Shut up,” Zuko growls and then apologizes. Katara laughs. 

“Are you going to the basketball game tonight?” he asks her. 

“Um, maybe.” 

“Too much homework?” 

“I don’t know if I’ll have the energy.” 

“It’s literally three hours from now, Katara.” 

“Yes, exactly.” 

He huffs over the line and she smiles slightly, going into the kitchen and popping open a soda. 

“Jet’s playing tonight.” 

The sensation of carbonation and sugar up her nose is not a pleasant one. 

“What?” 

“You heard me.” 

“That’s bullshit. Utter bullshit.” 

“Nope. Ty Lee told me.” 

“I’m sorry, Jet who got to state finals three times in a row for, like, debate?” 

“Do we know any other Jet?” 

“No, but like. . . Jet?” 

“Are you coming or not?” 

“Pick me up at six.” 

He comes in his sedan, beat up and black, with scratches on the windows and a dent in one of the doors.

“I can’t wait until this thing doesn’t pass inspection,” Katara says, pulling the door shut. 

He ignores her, starting the ignition. 

“The door is still open,” he says. She opens it, and pulls it shut harder. 

“Still open.” 

“Oh my fucking--” The rest of her sentence is drowned out by the louder sound of the door shutting for the third time. 

“Closed now,” he says, backing out of the driveway. 

“I figured.” 

The ride to the basketball game is quiet except for the radio, which Zuko flips from station to station. He doesn’t really have a music taste, which Katara knows from years of listening to CDs and then vinyls with him. 

“Whatever sounds good,” he told her once, with a shrug. 

“Are Sokka and Suki coming?” Zuko asks, pulling up to their high school’s gym. It’s not quite packed yet-- they’re still a little early-- but there’s a steady stream of people walking through the gym doors. 

“No, it’s makeout night,” Katara says, stepping out of the car and slamming the door. Zuko clicks the button to lock the door twice, a habit of his that she’ll never understand. 

“Does your father know?” 

“It’s makeout night because he’s not coming back until Sunday. In fact, it’ll probably be makeout weekend.” 

“You can hang with me and Uncle, if you want.” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

They take a seat on the bleachers, right in the middle. 

“Still don’t believe you about Jet, by the way,” she says. 

“You’re in denial, he’s right there,” Zuko replies, pointing down at the bench. “I’m going to concessions, do you want anything?” 

Katara shakes her head and he stands, brushing off his jeans. She puts her phone down where he was sitting, saving his spot. This leaves her alone, with five minutes before the game starts. 

Minute one is looking around the gym, pulling a strand of her hair, picking at her nails. 

Minute two is when Jet starts to walk up the bleachers.

Minute three is when he stops to where she’s sitting and leans close to her. 

“Hey, Katara.” 

“Hi, Jet.” 

“Surprised to see you here.” 

“Surprised I came. I didn’t know you played basketball.” 

“It’s a new thing. I came to ask you something, by the way.” 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“You, me, Saturday night. We can do whatever you want.” 

“That’s not a question.” 

“Do you want to go out with me?” 

“If you win the game, maybe.” 

“If I win the game, yes.” 

“Deal.” 

He trots back down the stairs, shaking his head. He passes Zuko on the way down, who’s opening a pack of Red Hots and doesn’t notice Jet. 

Katara doesn’t say word about her date. Just, “I hope they lose.” 

“Who?” he says. 

“Us,” Katara says, allowing slight contempt to filter into her voice. 

“Isn’t that counterintuitive?” 

“Frankly, I don’t give a shit.” 

“Will a Red Hot cure your grumpiness?” he says, popping one into his mouth. 

“No, but I’ll take one anyways.” 

They trade quips and stories from their day as they watch the game. Katara is more fond of insulting the game than Zuko is, but neither of them seem to mind. 

Avatar High School wins the game 72-54. 

Jet comes up to her as she and Zuko make their leave, a roguish smile on his face. 

“See you Saturday,” he says, then catches up with his teammates. 

“What was that about?” Zuko asks, his voice sounding strange. 

“I-- uh, Jet asked me out.” 

“And you said yes?” 

“Only if they won.” 

The ride back to her house, just like the ride to the basketball game, is silent, although this isn’t a silence Katara likes. 

“You’re quiet,” she says finally, as he parks his car in her driveway. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel.

“I didn’t even know you liked Jet,” Zuko says, not looking at her. 

“I didn’t know either,” she says with a laugh, but Zuko’s not laughing with her, so she stops. 

“Are you mad or something?” Katara says with a frown  
.  
“No!” Zuko is quick to deny this, which makes Katara just a little bit more confused. “No, I-- Fuck, Katara.” 

“What?” she says. “Why can’t you just fucking tell me?” 

“I’d rather it be me!” he says, throwing his hands up. “I’d rather it’d be me that’s with you Saturday night, not him.” 

And Katara’s not a fool; she understands what this means. 

So she swallows, swallows her pride, swallows her fear, and says, “I think I’d rather it be you too.” 

And the money, the sheer amount of money Katara would pay to see the smile on his face over and over again, is way too much than she could ever afford.


End file.
